


In Which Joly Cannot Breathe

by orphan_account



Series: La Maison d'ABC [5]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: M/M, modern!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2013-05-08
Packaged: 2017-12-10 18:17:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/788691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joly has an anxiety disorder.  Everyone always assumes that his hypochondria is something he can help, but it isn't.  And every so often -- not frequently, but sometimes -- it all becomes too much and he begins to really panic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Joly Cannot Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why I wrote this. I think it's because I'm having a bit of a panic attack right now? I'm not sure, but I thought Joly would be the most likely Ami to have an anxiety disorder and I needed to write some of this out, so ignore this addition to the series. Also, I decided to write in present tense this time -- don't ask why -- but let me know what you think.

It's not something that should scare him.  It's not something that would scare anyone else, but it terrifies Joly.  There is a scratching, biting fear inside his chest that is eating him from the inside.  

He lies there and stares at the ceiling, trying to control the nausea that has swept over him.  He's nervous, inexplicably and suddenly, and his hands are shaking as they clutch the sheets.  His door is closed and locked; the curtains are drawn; his room is dark.  He sits up, his breathing coming faster now, a pounding in his head.  Suddenly the room is too hot, too dark, too small.  His shirt feels as if it is suffocating him.  He turns on the lamp and tries to slow his breathing.  The edges of the darkness are throbbing inwards and his heart is pounding so fast it feels as if it's going to burst out of his chest.

He closes his eyes and tries not to cry because crying makes you weak, crying is a faggot thing to do, crying will bring your father down on you with an open palm to your cheek.  A tear slips out from underneath his eyelid and he hears himself whimper.  No, he can't cry, he can't  _fucking cry_ , and so he bites the fleshy part of his thumb, hard and it hurts but the hurt is a good hurt because it stops him from thinking about how scared he is, how much he's panicking and he bites down harder.  He still has marks from the last panic attack.

Joly does not cut himself.  He knows there is too much risk of infection and too much risk of cutting too deep.  No, Joly doesn't cut.  Joly bites himself.  It sounds strange, but it helps take his mind off the immediate fear of panic attacks and the hot breathlessness that comes with it and the lack of oxygen.  His arms are marked for days at a time, imprints of teeth, and everyone just assumes he's been getting lucky and Courfeyrac will give him these knowing glances and Joly just wants to cry and scream for help but he can't because he knows they would look at him with disgust in their eyes and snicker behind their hands and he's shackled to his fears and his anxiety and he has no idea who he would be without it.

His breathing is more erratic now, and his throat feels like it's being ripped to shreds.  His heart is beating so hard he can see his shirt moving and he's so scared, so fucking scared, that he bites down on his wrist, hard, and he can taste blood but he doesn't care.  Tears have soaked his cheeks, clung to his eyelashes, dampened his skin, and he suddenly can't breathe and his wrist is bleeding and he needs to get a grip because he's a grown man, for God's sake, and grown men don't have panic attacks like this. He stumbles from the bed and tries to unlock his door and succeeds but actually opening the door escapes him and he sinks to the floor in defeat, hyperventilating and fisting his hair because he can't fucking  _breathe_ \--

Someone bursts through the door and it turns out to be Bossuet, laughing and flushed and happy, and he stops in his tracks when he sees Joly curled in a ball, back against a chair, unable to breathe and unable to not breathe because right now all Joly wants is to be dead and not have to feel this terror, this ripping fear through his chest.  Bossuet's eyes widen and here it comes, what Joly is dreading, but he says nothing, he simply gathers Joly into his arms and holds him until Joly's entire body can stop shaking and Joly can breathe normally which takes awhile and then just holds him for a few minutes after that.  Eventually Joly's panic stops and he goes limp and just cries silently into Bossuet's black t-shirt, feeling guilty for bringing his boyfriend into this and hating himself for being so fucking weak.

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, wow, I'm sorry this is so depressing. And dear god, there are so many run-ons but I'm not going to fix it because I'm too lazy.  
> Also yeah, I figured Joly's dad might have been abusive. I'm not sure why, but it fit. And I don't mean to say that people with anxiety disorder are weak. I mean, I have an anxiety disorder, and I just wanted to express how I feel when I have a panic attack, which is weak and a burden on other people. So, um . . . yeah.


End file.
